


A Collection of 221B Drabbles

by SunshineThroughTheStorm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Gen, Multi, Multiple Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 04:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineThroughTheStorm/pseuds/SunshineThroughTheStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exploration into the relationships between the different characters and a riverboat journey through the subtropics of my headcanon, featuring all the old favourites: John, Sherlock, Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly, Dimmock and Moriarty, as well as some other characters who will pop in now and then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Pirate's Life For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Title: "Yo Ho, Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life For Me" – A Pirate's Life For Me (Yo Ho), Disney  
> Inspired By: "But Initially He Wanted To Be A Pirate" Mycroft Holmes, A Scandal In Belgravia  
> Pairings: Mycroft/Sherlock family fluff  
> Word Count: 221 (excluding headers and footnotes)

“Mycroft!” The tones of the younger bellowed from his bedroom. “Come play with me!”  


“Sherlock, I can’t come and play with you. I’m working.” The elder huffed through gritted teeth.  


“Mycroft!” Sherlock burst into the room. The door ricocheted off a meticulously neat stack of textbooks, causing them to cascade across the floor. Mycroft growled. He looked up to shout at his brother. Then he stopped.  
“What are you wearing?”  


“I’m a pirate, Mycroft. And you’re my hostage!”  


“Oh really, Captain Holmes?” Mycroft smiled. He folded his arms in an act of defiance; his nose stuck into the air. “How do you plan on making me comply?”  


Sherlock frowned in thought. He gasped, “You can share my treasure, My.” He whipped his blunted dagger out, pointing it at his brother’s throat. “Or ‘tis the plank for thee.”  


“I would much rather become a member in your crew, my brother.” Mycroft said, extending a diplomatic hand for Sherlock to take. “You and I, sailing the high seas. It will be an adventure.” Mycroft looked at Sherlock, slicing into the younger’s thoughts. “Our final quest before I go to university.”  


“Hmm.” Sherlock gnawed on his bottom lip. “Okay.” He stretched out a sticky hand to help guide Mycroft across the schoolbook stepping stones.  


Mycroft often warmly reflects these times with his swashbuckling brother.


	2. I Wake Up In The Night

It was like his skin was being pulled by white hot electrodes.

His head burnt with memories. Bitter and sweet – he saw Sherlock sweeping the bow of his violin across the taut strings. He heard the gunfire of Afghanistan, and saw the destruction. He saw Sherlock fall. Broken wings of a falling angel.

He felt the pure joy they had shared. Genuine delight at solving cases. At having a fridge free of fingers and thumbs, and other things that ooze. At being together. At their friendship. Some moments were so happy.

And they had shared a bed. Nothing more to it than just friends. Sherlock had soothed the nightmares. John had tamed the raging fire.

John woke with a jolt. His shoulder ached. Like the bullet from his dream had really pierced it again. No sound – save his heartbeat and ragged breath. No sound. No sooth of violins, no obnoxious detective rambling. Unadulterated silence. _Wasn’t it hateful?_ Absolutely. John understood now why Sherlock had detested it so. He hated the silence. The sound of boredom.

John curled into a ball, feeling his heartbeat decelerate. He was alone. So alone.

John picked up his laptop and began to type a new blog post. Sherlock’s side was freezing; the duvet bunched up around John. And John was typing, alone in the double bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could be viewed as platonic or pre-slash, whichever you prefer. I tried to write it as just friendship, which is pretty difficult as I have slash goggles practically glued to my face :)


	3. A Canadian Wedding Could Be Devised

He had proposed over breakfast. Popped the question over bacon, eggs, tea and toast. And he had been so calm – John could be forgiven for thinking that he was joking.

“We should get married, John.” In that thoughtful, pensive voice he sometimes adopted. “Would you do me the honour of being my husband?”

“We’d have to go to Canada if you want to be married.”

“A Canadian wedding could be devised,” Sherlock bit into his toast. “We could always elope.”

“It would save the drama.”

“We’d have to avoid Mycroft.”

“Ah. Get married here and honeymoon in Canada?” John suggested.

“That’s not a marriage.”

“It’s a hypothetical situation!” John exclaimed. Sherlock’s smile disappeared. “Isn’t it?”

Sherlock remained downcast.

John slithered off his seat, and smashed his mouth to the detective’s. “You sappy git. Canada, then?”

“I really love you, John,” Sherlock gazed his light, steel-blue eyes up at John. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Can I use the loo?” John asked.

Sherlock pulled a face, releasing his arm. “Go – be disgustingly human.”

Upon his return, John captured Sherlock’s long fingers. Sherlock watched him curiously. John kissed those wriggling digits in turn. On the third, he slipped a thin golden ring. “I love you.” He whispered as their lips brushed together.

“I love you too,” The smiling, newly-engaged, detective touched the metallic band.


	4. Everything I Have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: “I am growing tired of allowing you to steal everything I have,” Hate This & I’ll Love You, Muse.  
> Inspired By: My sister’s theory of how Mystrade got together  
> Written For: IBegToDreamAndDiffer  
> Pairings: Mycroft/Lestrade  
> Word Count: 221 (excluding headers and footnotes)

“Gregory,” Mycroft groaned, bending over the DI’s desk. “I really must return to the office.”

Greg smiled against Mycroft’s lips, “No, you don’t. The world can run without you for a little bit.” The politician had just asked Greg to move in with him, and the result had been a make-out session in Greg’s office.

“Gregory!”

“Fine. I’ll see you tonight, then. In _our_ flat.”

Mycroft licked his chapped lips. “Absolutely, _mon chèrie_.” He moved into a standing position, and smoothed down his clothes. He leaned in for a gentler kiss when Sherlock burst into Lestrade’s office. 

“How _dare_ you?”

“Hello, John,” Greg sighed. “Did he steal your phone again?”

“Sorry Greg,” John came round to stand beside Lestrade. “I told him not to go through my messages.”

Sherlock continued raging. “Of all the people in the world, you chose him? Really? So, where did you meet?”

“At your funeral,” Greg mumbled, avoiding Sherlock’s scowl.

“At my funeral? Great, Mycroft, just great.”

“My dearest brother,” Mycroft closed his eyes and sighed. “I believe you once told me that ‘you can date any of my friends, over my dead body’.”

Sherlock growled, storming out of the room. “Come along John!”

“I’d better…” John said. “Congratulations!”

“Cheers, John,” Greg replied. He shut the door. “So, where were we?” he asked, kissing his beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for IBegToDreamAndDiffer as a birthday present (sorry it's a little bit late) because she wrote me some amazing pieces on my birthday. My suggestion is that everybody goes and reviews at least one of her stories to say "Happy birthday!" because she is legendary and Reviews Are Love.
> 
> Sunshine :)


	5. Nice Day For A White Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: “It’s A Nice Day For A White Wedding” White Wedding, Billy Idol  
> Inspired By: A Canadian Wedding Could Be Devised  
> Pairings: John/Sherlock  
> Word Count: 221 (excluding headers and footnotes)

It started off as an experiment – _will sharing John’s bed help his nightmares? Let’s find out_ – and it had quickly morphed into the two sharing kisses and having intimate moments. And then he realised that he was in love with his blogger.

He – the great Sherlock Holmes – was hopelessly in love with the good Doctor John Watson.

And then the pair had the idea of marriage. Or civil partnership, to be pedantic. But it had to be secret; if Mrs. Holmes found out, it would become an elaborate, lavish and wholly unnecessary extravaganza. Yikes. A lot of thought went into selecting witnesses. They needed someone they could trust to keep schtum, and who would be happy to witness them exchange vows.

_If we didn’t need witnesses_ , thought Sherlock, _I’d carry him to the registry office this second_ …

Lestrade was John’s suggestion. He had respect for them; he wouldn’t tell anyone in the force out of spite. Sherlock had nobody else to ask besides Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Molly or the skull. All were crossed off the list – even Jesse, whom was never on the aforementioned list seriously. In the end they were witnessed by Lestrade and one of John’s old army buddies called Lavi. He’d quit to fight demons, he said.

Despite the drama, they were united – the detective and his blogger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after my friend brought her plushie of Lavi from D-Gray.man. So he's made a nice little cameo here as one of John's old army buddies.
> 
> I live for comments :)


	6. Brand New Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: "Just Got A Brand New Car… Looks Like A Jaguar" – Buck Rogers, Feeder
> 
> Inspired By: Mark Gatiss' Commentary on A Scandal In Belgravia
> 
> Pairings: Mycroft/Lestrade pre-slash
> 
> Word Count: 221 (excluding headers and footnotes)

It was the first time he'd been in a Jaguar. But many strange things were happening to DI Gregory Lestrade that week. He'd met a drug addict with the brain of a genius – much cleverer than his team combined – and decided to help the poor bastard get clean with the promise of more mysteries and tricky cases.

And the guy had taken him up on his offer. Promised to get clean; tempted by puzzles. Funny name too, _unique_ , Greg complimented. Sherlock Louis Holmes. Written in handwriting like copperplate. Greg didn't know many junkies who knew calligraphy.

And now he was in a Jaguar travelling to an undisclosed destination. His companion, a gorgeous woman named Aimee, wasn't talkative and had sloughed Greg's attempts to flirt.

"Here we are, sir, madam."

They had stopped inside a multi-storey car park. Greg climbed out of the car apprehensively. Stood in the shadows, a man was leaning on his umbrella.

"Evening." Greg called politely.

"Good evening, Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"How…?"

"What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

"Excuse me?" Greg wasn't used to being interrogated. "Nothing, I guess. He's a junkie I tried to get clean."

"Yet you saved him from arrest. How tender-hearted."

"Who the Hell are you?" Lestrade snapped.

The man strode forward and shook Greg's hand warmly. "Thank you for saving my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before series 3, so some details are inaccurate (such as Sherlock's name).
> 
> I live for comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> I live off comments :)


End file.
